Page 4 of Healing the Leonid Doctor's Heart
She nodded, sympathy in her eyes. “You talked to me a lot when I was too weak to talk myself,” Abi said softly. “I didn’t think about what it must be like, delivering cubs when you lost yours.”
“It’s the best and worst thing, all at once.” He shrugged. “And I can’t tell the others that. Not these young families, you know. I worked so hard for this, in their honor, my cubs’ honor, my Queen’s honor... And it’s not like I would have changed anything, simply because it was hard.” Marcus stopped fiddling with his spoon and bowl, wondering how such steady paws could suddenly feel so much like trembling.She’s right. I must betired. Not awake enough to jump out of a sound sleep into a sociable conversation.
Is that the first sign that I’m past it?
Abi patted his paw, her fingers now clean. It felt like an electric shock danced up his spine, and the trembles were gone, replaced by a quivering in his middle that he thought was long dead.
If I’m past it, shouldn’t these urges be gone?
“It’s okay, Marcus,” Abigail said with a quiet smile. “You can tell me. I’m a good listener. I’m boring, but a good listener.”
“Who said you’re boring?” Marcus shook his head.
“Oh, it’s a given. Forty-five years old, never traveled, never deviated from the expected path of a nice middle-class girl from a middle-class part of Sapien-Three. Never married, barely been kissed, no kids, one job... Oneboringjob.” Abi’s pale pink lips twisted into a self-deprecating smile. “A job for those of us with nothing better to do than pay attention to massive streams of numbers and credits. The only exciting thing I’ve ever done in my life was land here—and even then, it was almost thelastthing I ever did in my life,” she laughed, a bittersweet sound.
“No offense, but it seems as though ninety percent of the folks on Sapien-Three have the same story—some with worse variations. They have a simple job that keeps body and soul together. There doesn’t seem to be much room for excitement, just survival.”
Abigail nodded, her blonde and silver tail bobbing behind her.
He wanted to touch her hair. That was wrong, because there was no medical or necessary reason to touch her hair, to feel it bobbing under his paw. But all the human Queens had such unique hair, from the tight, dark curls on Nessa’s head to the long, soft waves on Layla’s, and then there was Kaylie’s short, sleek hair, like liquid silk. With effort, Marcus stopped himselffrom asking if hairstyles and textures were regional, based on genetics, or a combination of both, like it was with Lynxians and Leonids.
“You’re right. Survival is the key thing. I worked at that job for over twenty years, and I’ve already lost it in eight weeks. I’ve been gone too long for them to hold a position at that ‘senior’ level. Ha. Senior level, but they didn’t even let me use all of the sick leave I’ve stored up. Never going anywhere, never doing anything... What a waste it was.”
Marcus heard the despondency creep into her voice, and he shook his head. “Their loss, and our gain. Why, without you, we never would have figured out who the crooked scheduler was at the MWIP. The various policing agencies wouldn’t know the name of the bastard letting human trafficking occur right under his ugly nose. I heard you were going to get a commendation, you and Nessa.”
“We are, but I doubt that’ll get us anywhere. There are too many humans with too many cheap contracts for some special intergalactic anti-crime award to outweigh the fact that some woman ten years younger and willing to take five thousand less credits is eager to take my job—and probably in a shorter skirt.”
Marcus swallowed his compliment regarding Abi’s legs. He’d seen them, moved them, lifted them over his arm to carry her when she was first discovered, and squeezed them to check for signs of clotting and pooling when she was unconscious and immobile. She had incredible legs—long and slim. They were decorated with some varicose veins at the ankles, but oddly enough, he found the delicate green and purple spider webbing pretty—like nature’s tattoos. You never got to see those markings under Felid or Canid fur.
Say something! Don’t think about her legs. “Well, it will mean something to the baking institutions around here. Besides, there are tons of jobs in the Felix Orbus Galaxy.” His reassuringtone darkened without his permission. “Remember, we lost about half of our adult workforce.”
Another gentle tracing of her fingers over his paw. “I’m so sorry. It’s like you can never get away from it, isn’t it?”
“It is, but that’s not your fault—and I’m one of the few people in the system who have found something truly useful to fix it.”
“You’ll probably win some sort of medical honor, won’t you?” Abigail nodded, pride in her eyes. “You’re a hero to your people, Marcus.”
“I’ll be a hero when there are a hundred cubs, a thousand cubs, not just three. Right now, I’m a hero-in-waiting, if that’s a thing. Back to you. Credit exchanges must be similar across the galaxies, don’t you think?”
“I’d probably need training in the Felix Orbus protocols and exchange rates. I suppose my savings might let me take a few courses, especially if my contract got picked up for something short-term in the meantime.”
A thought struck him so hard that Marcus winced with the effort of not blurting it out, and Abigail pulled her hand back like she’d been scratched by the long, sharp claws, even though they were carefully tucked away.
“I’d better let you go. You’re twitching. My eyes do that when I’m exhausted, too,” she laughed, leaving him one final pat on the wrist. “I’m sorry it’s been a rough one, Marcus. I... Well, I’m here if you ever need to talk.”
“I know you are, Abi.” He managed a smile, nodding at her, telltale tail curled around his ankle, the tip pressed against the leg of the chair by the pad of his bare paw to stop it from swaying and dancing at every touch. “You landed here in horrible circumstances, but you’ve been a bright spot in my day every day since.”
She smiled at him, like some gentle, golden creature, so alien, and yet so pretty. He supposed, after all this time with the otherhumans on board, he was starting to admire the smoothness, the way they were more delicate, more fragile with their thinner layers of muscles, and their skin uncovered without the benefits of fur.
“I wouldn’t be here without you, Marcus. Anything I can do for you—for any of you—all you have to do is ask!” Abigail beamed at him and darted forward, giving him the briefest of hugs, cheek to his chest, little fingers squeezing on his shoulders, and then she was gone.
“Anything?” Marcus whispered after the steel sliding doors of his quarters shut behind her.. He rearranged the items from his tray, making it look as though his meal for one was for two.
You don’t need to have a Queen to have a family, you know. You could have someone around this table with you. Children. Of course, you’d need someone to make that happen and give you a cub. A son. A daughter.
Abigail’s face filled the space across from him as if she were still there.
She’s lonely. You heard it. Never been married. Barely ever been kissed.
